


Connor's Diary

by PitsOfDisclaire



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Diary, Drabble, GAAY, Gay, M/M, mcpriceley, mostly a vent sort of thing, not much to tag?, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 20:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14433918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitsOfDisclaire/pseuds/PitsOfDisclaire
Summary: A look into Connor McKinley's diary a year into his mission





	Connor's Diary

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys so this really just is a little drabble self indulgent piece I wrote! It's half venting and half gushing over a certain someone and I'm just in a light hearted mood so I wrote this!

Dear Diary,

I’m a year into my mission now and I couldn’t be happier.

I’m nearly tempted to tear out all those horrible pages of me crying every terrible thought of mine onto the page. Another part of brain though is singing ‘Keep it. Look how far you’ve come,’. That part outshines the guilt and shame. It’s there and maybe it’ll always be there but at least now I can get by knowing that it’s okay- that I’m okay. I’ve learned that with every good feeling there will be bad feelings. Those feelings are perfectly natural and to show them is perfectly natural too. Heck, if people can’t accept my bad then why should they deserve my good. I used to be afraid of crying. I don’t know why exactly. I was afraid of pity I think. Someone once told me that I was just making everyone around me feel guilty- that I’ve nothing to cry over so what’s the point? The point is that I’m sad and I’m gonna let myself feel sad for a bit. If I can’t cry when I’m sad then why should I laugh when I’m happy?

I used to push my guilt onto the other missionaries here. That wasn’t fair. Okay, so I know it wasn’t entirely me but I shouldn’t have egged them on. I keep getting told that I’m fine that It’ just what I and everyone else was used to. We weren’t used to feeling our feelings. We were supposed to pray about it and hope everything would be okay. Maybe it works for some people but you can’t pray for your sister to come back to life and you can’t pray for a better childhood at age 19. You can’t pray love away either. 

Coming here I was convinced that I was straight. (I write after I just had my makeup done by Naba earlier this day) I thought I was gonna come back, find a sweet girl to date then marry and whatever. I’d have probably become an accountant or something- of course, I’d study at BYU and my life was all perfect and planned and ready.

And boring. 

Maybe that’s someone else’s dream but it’s far from mine. 

I’m done with predicting the future, the only latter day that matters is tomorrow! Still trying to cram that phrase into my head. When I get back I’ll probably be preaching it and maybe then I’ll learn how to stop being such a hypocrite! Gosh, I write one thing and mean the other. ANYWAY THIS IS NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW. Where was I? Oh yeah trying to write about how gay I am. Life just is so much fun when you go with the wind. Sometimes it’s nice and breezy and it’s relaxing and calm. Other times the wind picks up and you feel all adventurous and perfect and it’s a wavy day at the beach so you know it’s gonna be fun. But of course then you have the stormy days but I’ll write about those some other time. (95% of this diary is me writing about my ‘storm’ days).

Life is so much better when you’re free. I feel free now. If I wanted to I could run off into the distance- dance and yell in the desert and under the setting sun and no one would stop me. Well… one person might but I’m not against them.

When I first got here I was so uptight and touchy and I’d yell and scream and cry a lot. But now, I’ve got two warm, tanned arms wrapped around me. Every now and then I’ll hear a huff because I’m taking too long to write in my diary. (He says that they’re pointless yet he owns a nice yellow one, I’ve read it too). He’ll pull me closer and groan “Connor….hurry up I wanna cuddle,” I’ll giggle and point out that he always wants to, then he’ll tell me that I never complain. He’s right. 

Kevin always likes to have my attention on him 24/7. I don’t mind it as long as I have his too, so it works out well. Sometimes I like to tease him and watch how flustered he gets, but he knows that even just one smirk has me blushing and struggling to speak. He smirks a lot, to be fair he always has. But he smirks A LOT more now and it’s driving me mad but in the best sort of way. I like the way he is now. He’s too tired to be smirking up at me so he has this soft, mindless grin on his face. His eyes are drooping down a little and sometimes he’ll manage a pout. ‘Gimme five minutes’ I say and I lean down and press a kiss to his forehead. If I feel like it I’ll mess up his hair a little, he always looks a thousand times cuter when he seems more casual. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing his gelled and slicked back hair and his broad shoulders in a flattering white shirt and don’t even get me started on those pants. But this Kevin is more real to me, more genuine and more Kevin. 

And I love Kevin more than I love anything.

-C


End file.
